


Yesterday

by cat3500



Category: Grease (1978)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 11:21:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24968884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cat3500/pseuds/cat3500
Summary: Five years after she broke his heart and dissapeared, Kenickie goes in search for Rizzo to fix his mistakes before he goes away. He isn't prepared for what he finds. *COMPLETE*
Relationships: Kenickie/Betty Rizzo
Comments: 2
Kudos: 31





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> What is there to do when the world is in lockdown than re-watch all your favourite movies and write about them? I knocked this all out in one day but I'm posting in 3 parts to make it more manageable. I thought a 10k chapter was a little much! I hope you enjoy it. X-posted on ff.net

Chapter 1

Frenchie heard a tap on the front window of the salon and looked up from placing the last roller in her client’s hair. Her face spread into a wide grin and her squeal could be heard half way down the street. Temporarily abandoning her client, she raced through the door onto the street.

He was the last person she expected to show up at her place of work.

“Kenickie!” She flew into his arms, joyous at seeing the figure from her past “What are you doing here?”

“Hi Frenchie.” Kenickie shoved his hands deeper into his pockets and looked down at the ground, embarrassed at Frenchie’s overt display of affection. “I came to see my folks. My Pop’s not doing so good.”

Frenchie’s usual beaming smile faltered and her brow furrowed, but her eyes were just as warm and friendly as ever. She touched his arm. He could feel the warmth of her hand on this cold morning through his leather jacket. “I’m sorry to hear that.” She stepped away and regarded him. “So how are you doing? I heard you were in Phoenix working at an autoshop.”

Kenickie cleared his throat. He didn’t meet her eye as he answered. “I was, yeah.” He sighed, finally looking up at his old friend and tentatively returning her smile. “This place looks pretty nice” he said, removing one hand from his jeans pocket and gesturing towards the salon.

Frenchie turned for a moment to look. “Yeah, it’s good. I like it. It’s not mine or anything, but the owner is great and she said I could be manager one day if I keep doing a good job.”

For perhaps the first time since he’d arrived back in town, Kenickie smiled. “That’s really great, French. Doing what you always wanted.” They stood quietly for a moment. “Do you have a break coming up? Do you want to grab some coffee?”

Frenchie nodded. “I’ve just got to finish up with this client then I can take lunch, sure. Give me thirty minutes. You know the place.” She winked at him as she walked back inside.

Kenickie watched Frenchie through the steamed up glass. He didn’t realise until she went back inside just how hard his heart was hammering.

* * *

“This place hasn’t changed much, huh?” Frenchie took off her jacket and slipped into the booth opposite Kenickie.

He looked around at The Frosty Palace and a rush of memories came at him. How many hours of his youth did he spend in this place? How many milkshakes did he drink? How many burgers did he eat? Well done, extra pickles, chilli fries on the side. He thought fondly of the memories.

“Not really. Vi’s retired though.”

Kenickie picked up the menu for something to do, even though he knew his order. There was laughter from the next booth, a group of teens enjoying their Saturday. Two guys had their arms around their girlfriends, another girl whispered in her friend’s ear. They looked happy. He wondered if they really were or if it was a front. He felt like he'd spent most of his own teen years pretending, one way or another.

Frenchie is watching them too. “Brings back memories, doesn’t it?” Kenickie only shrugged.

“Coffee?” A waitress hovered by their table with a full pot.

“Thank you” Kenickie said. They were both silent as the steaming mugs were poured. When the waitress moved onto the next table, Kenickie let out a long sigh. “Listen, I uh… I didn’t only come back to see my Pop.” He ran his hand through his sandy blonde hair nervously and his eyes darted around the room, looking everywhere but at Frenchie. “You know, I don’t have too many regrets in my life, but there’s one that I just can’t let go of.”

Frenchie reached out for his hand. They both knew what he was talking about, who he was talking about, he didn’t need to say it. After a moment he pulled away and started drumming his fingers on the formica table.

“Do you know where she is French?” When Kenickie did finally look at Frenchie, his eyes were haunted, desperate. “I mean, I know back then she left without a word to anyone, but I just thought… you know, it’s been 5 years, I thought someone might have heard something by now.” He swallowed, then asked again. “Do you know where she is?”

Frenchie poured creamer into her coffee for something to do then stirred it with a teaspoon. “Kenickie…”

He could see the worry on her face. The conflict between her heart and her head was reflected in the narrowing of her eyes and the biting of her lip.

“Frenchie, please. If you know where she is, please tell me. I’m not gonna cause trouble or nothing, I know she’s probably moved on. Maybe she’s married, I don’t know.” It wasn’t a happy thought but it was one he had tried to get used to. “But I need to see her, I need to put things right. Whatever happened back then, I need to know before I go away.”

“You’ve been away” Frenchie asked, confusion evident in her voice.

“I’m going further away. And who knows if I’ll get another chance to fix my mistakes.”

After a pause that felt like an eternity to Kenickie, Frenchie fixed him with a compassionate but firm stare. “We may not have all been together for a long time, but I still care about both of you. People will get hurt, I don’t think I could live with myself.”

“I’m already hurting, Frenchie. I’ve hurt every day since the day Rizzo disappeared.”

* * *

San Francisco. That’s where she was. It took a bit more pleading, but eventually Frenchie relented. But still, it was a pretty big city, and all he had to go on was the name of a hotel where Rizzo supposedly worked as a housekeeper. He didn’t waste any time, hitching a ride down the highway in a pick up driven by a trucker of questionable sobriety, but who was nonetheless willing to give him a lift for the price of half a tank of gas.

He got the hotel’s address by calling the telephone exchange from a phonebooth at the gas station where his new friend Chuck dropped him off. He scribbled down the address the operator read to him and stood in the booth for a long while staring at the piece of paper.

That was where his courage failed him. He spent three days wandering around the city, steadily getting closer and closer to the address he clutched in his hands as each day wore on. But he always chickened out, never getting more than a couple of blocks from the marble fronted hotel Frenchie mentioned. How would he even go about finding her, even if he did build up the courage to go in? He could hardly walk into the lobby and ask the concierge.

On the fourth day, he positioned himself on a low wall on the edge of a park opposite the staff entrance round the back. He watched maids and busboys, kitchen porters and bartenders come and go, but he didn’t once see Rizzo. He had begun to think Frenchie had got it wrong, or Rizzo worked here years ago but had since moved on. How would he find her if she had? She might not even be in the city anymore. He was about to lose hope when, late that evening, illuminated by one single light mounted above the door, he saw her.

She had changed. She’d let her hair grow out, and she carried herself differently. Gone was the teenage swagger he’d found so appealing and in it’s place a purposeful by elegant stride. She wore a pencil skirt and blazer underneath a red woollen coat. He smiled to himself, happy to see the burst of colour as call back to the bright and vibrant girl he knew. Sure, Rizzo had changed, but there was no mistake, it was her.

He threw away his cigarette and stood. It was reflex, he didn’t really mean to approach her, not yet, but he found he couldn’t if he wanted to, the shock of seeing her again rooted him to the spot. A tall dark haired man in a grey suit stepped out of the shadows. Kenickie watched, his brow sweating despite the chill in the air, as the girl that had not left his thoughts since the summer after senior year gave the stranger a welcoming peck on the cheek. He put his arm around her shoulders and side by side they walked up the street away from Kenickie, the click of Rizzo’s heels fading as they turned the corner.

* * *

There was a bar opposite the Bed & Breakfast Kenickie was staying in. It was a pretty nice place, the B&B. He had some wages saved up from his work at his cousin’s autoshop and didn’t see the point in slumming it. What was he going to do with the money in a couple of weeks anyway? The bar was nothing special, but the bartenders seemed welcoming enough and the place was quiet. Kenickie had sat by the window with a beer or three every night he’d been in the city.

It wasn’t until the night he saw Rizzo for the first time in half a decade that he bypassed his usual seat for a spot at the bar. Murphy, the proprietor, was polishing glasses but abandoned his task when Kenickie sat down.

“We’ll be closing soon, but you’ve got time for one. The usual Bud?”

Kenickie shook his head. “I need something stronger tonight. Give me a bourbon.”

Murphy nodded and reached for the bottle and a glass. “Ice?”

“Nah, give it to me neat. A double.” The drink was poured and Kenickie stared at it for a moment. “Thanks.”

“You from out of town?”

Kenickie threw it back in one, savouring the warmth as the brown liquid slid down his throat. “Yeah. I’ve come from Phoenix, but I’m between places right now.”

“What brings you to this town?”

Kenickie let out a rueful laugh. He wasn’t sure why he was being so chatty to this guy, it wasn’t in his nature. But seeing Riz earlier had shaken him. He needed company and a drink and here they both were. “A girl.”

Murphy laughed. “Isn’t it always? Is she the reason you look so down in the dumps?” Kenickie looked up from his empty glass and the bartender held up his hands. “Hey man, I’m sorry if I overstepped. Sometimes I don’t know how to keep my mouth shut.”

Kenickie let out a long sigh. “It’s alright. It’s a long and complicated story, I’ll spare you the details. I’ve not seen her in a long time, since high school, but I saw her tonight.”

“Wow. How did that go?”

Kenickie shrugged. “I didn’t talk to her or nothing. She was with another guy.” That wasn’t the only reason Kenickie had not made his presence known, but he didn’t want to get into that. He needed time to unpack his feelings in his own company before he shared them with anyone else, even a perfect stranger.

“This girl broke your heart huh?”

When Kenickie didn’t answer, Murphy silently poured him another drink with a wink and let him be, sauntering down to the other end of the bar to finish polishing glasses.

Yes, thought Kenickie. She did. I didn’t realise I loved her until it was too late.

* * *

“Betty? Betty?”

Rizzo blinked, and turned to her colleague beside her on the reception desk. She blinked. “Sorry, I was miles away.”

Fiona laughed, replacing the pen in the holder and adding a note to the to-do pile for the manager. “Still tired from your vacation?”

Rizzo smiled. “A little.”

“It was Peter's sister’s wedding, is that right? Was it nice?”

Rizzo closed her eyes. Her husband’s family, though well meaning, were intense and it always took her a few days to recover from the madness. “It was a lovely ceremony.”

“It must have been nice to get away. You know, just the two of you.”

She brushed a bit of lint off her sleeve and adjusted her name badge. “I guess it was. But I’m glad to be back. How’s things with Simon anyway?”

Fiona groaned. Rizzo allowed her mind to drift off as Fiona recounted the latest drama in her love life. It was a tale Rizzo had heard many times before, only differing slightly with each new beau, but she didn’t mind. It passed the time before the next guest checked out and required their attention.

“… So, I told him, if he wasn’t willing to meet me half way then it was over. And you know what he did? Walked out the restaurant. Just like that! The bastard left me with the bill, after he insisted on the most expensive bottle of wine on the menu. That’s it, I’m done with him.”

“There are plenty more guys out there” Rizzo said. It’s true, she thought with an affectionate shake of the head. But Fiona’s probably dated them all already.

* * *

In a pizzeria a block from the hotel, Kenickie was working on his second slice when the bell above the door chimed and Rizzo walked in, laughing with another woman. The both wore the identical navy skirt and blazer he’d seen Rizzo in a few nights previously, their hair styles immaculate and their makeup flawless. It wasn’t the Rizzo he remembered, she seemed even more changed in daylight and up close, but it was definitely her.

He let his slice fall to his plate and watched her with wide eyes. If she turned this way she would see him, no question. But the restaurant was noisy with the lunchtime rush. If he just kept quiet, perhaps she wouldn’t notice him.

But was that what he wanted? He’d pestered Frenchie and hitchhiked to this city to see this woman, and here she was right in front of him. Why was he so afraid? As if on cue, Rizzo turned and they locked eyes. The laughter died on her face and she stared at him, wide-eyed. Her friend nudged her, pointing to the menu above her serving counter. Rizzo gave her order, not taking her eyes off Kenickie and he watched as she took in a shaky breath.

Rizzo walked over to the table by the wall where spectre from her past was sitting with a shy smile on his face. She blinked. Her hands were shaking. Was it really him? He saw him pull a couple of paper napkins from the dispenser and wipe the pizza grease from his hands, but he didn’t say a word.

“Kenickie.” Even saying his name out loud was strange for Rizzo. Part of her had always wondered whether she would see him again, and here he was right in front of her. He hadn’t changed that much. His hair was shorter maybe, a light stubble speckled his cheeks. The same leather jacket he always sported was thrown over the empty chair.

Kenickie stood up. The chair scraped against the floor. “Rizzo. You…. You look good.” He was nervous, she could tell, but he didn’t look as surprised to see her as she was to see him. “I like your hair.”

She played with a curl nervously. After saying his name, all other words had failed her.

The gesture struck Kenickie as being uncharacteristically girly for the girl he knew. But she probably wasn’t that girl anymore. Time had passed, he probably wasn’t the same as he had been either.

“Thanks” Rizzo said eventually. Her mouth was dry and she swallowed to try and rectify that. “What are you doing here, Kenickie?”

Kenickie squared his shoulders and rammed his hands in his pockets. Right in the middle of this busy pizzeria, the moment he’d been thinking about vaguely for over 5 years, but more acutely for the last couple of months had come. It was now or never. He had to get out what he came to say before Rizzo bolted, as she looked poised to do any second. “I came to see you” he said. “Frenchie told me where you worked.” Rizzo’s eyes narrowed and Kenickie felt bad for dropping their friend in hot water. “Don’t be mad at her, I didn’t give her much choice. I can be pretty persuasive when I want to be.”

Rizzo’s shoulders relaxed a little. “Don’t I know it.”

There it was, the sass that he had found so sexy when they were eighteen. A slight smirk crept onto his face. “Can we talk?”

“I have to go back to work, I was just grabbing a bite to eat.” Rizzo brought her hand of her face and rubbed her eyes, probably smudging her make-up but not caring.

“Please?”

Kenickie looked so vulnerable and lost in that moment her heart dropped. Her mind was racing and she could barely think straight through the cacophony of memories whirling around in her head. But it was still there, that indefinable thing that had attracted her to him in the first place. She remembered how underneath the cock-sure bravado, there was a sweet and loyal boy who she had hurt badly. Whatever he had come to the city to tell her, she owed it to him to listen, and to tell him it wasn’t his fault. His eyes fell to the floor in defeat, and he readied himself to speak. To apologise maybe, to make his excuses and leave. Rizzo couldn’t let him do that.

“I get off at 6” she said. “I’ll have time for a coffee before I have to get home.”

* * *

For the rest of the afternoon, Kenickie walked the streets in a state of nervous excitement, equal parts joy that she had agreed to see him and dread that he’d made a horrible mistake by coming here. His head was spinning, but he made a concerted effort to calm himself and focus on what he was going to say. He felt he had to apologise, although he didn’t know what he was apologising for really. It didn’t matter. Kenickie felt he must have done something wrong. Why else would she have left all those years ago without saying goodbye?

At the same time, he wanted answers. The end of that summer was a blur of heartache and liquor and bad decisions, but the general uncertainty had haunted him ever since and would continue to do so until he learned the truth.

He was 45 minutes early to meet her. He’d never been early for anything in his life. He sat down in the same spot on the wall where he’d first seen her a week ago and smoked half a pack of cigarettes as he waited. At ten minutes after 6 o’clock, the staff entrance opened and she stepped out into the fading light alone. He threw his half-smoked cigarette in the gutter and stood up, adjusting his jacket and smoothing his hair, a long-term habit he hadn’t been able to shake. He raised his hand in greeting.

As they walked to the café Rizzo suggested, they didn’t say a word. If it was possible, she looked even more nervous than he did. He snuck sideways glances at her as they walked briskly down the sidewalk side by side, the tension building until Kenickie felt like he screaming inside.

The place was down a side street, tucked away and quiet, but when Rizzo walked through the door the grey-haired woman behind the counter greeted her by first name. They took their jackets off, hanging them on the coat hooks, and Kenickie watched Rizzo as she unwound the scarf from her neck. She wore a pair of black pants and a cream sweater; she had changed out of her uniform and he couldn’t help but notice how the fabric of her sweater clung to her figure in all the right places. But he shook his head. He had no right to think of her in that way anymore. He pulled out a chair from the table a little way so she could sit down.

“Frenchie said you were a housekeeper” Kenickie said. Opening with small talk was the only way he could think of to keep his nerves at bay. “Didn’t look much like a housekeeper’s uniform you were wearing at lunch today.”

“I’ve moved up in the world” she replied with a shrug. “I’m a receptionist.”

“Wow. Don’t you need people skills for that?”

She laughed. Back in the day they communicated primarily through sarcasm and insults, it was just the way they were. There was something nice about how easily they seemed to be slipping back into their old dynamic. It was comfortable, but Rizzo knew she couldn’t let her guard down too much. She couldn’t afford to.

“I guess I‘ve grown as a person.”

The waitress brought them coffee and Rizzo ordered two slices of cherry pie as well. Kenickie stared out the window, searching for some courage to get into why he had really come.

“It must have been a shock to see me. I’m sorry for that.”

“Were you stalking me?”

Kenickie didn’t answer and Rizzo raised a mocking eyebrow. Underneath the long hair and the neat make-up was the same feisty no-nonsense girl. But she wasn’t a girl anymore, if she ever had been. She was definitely a woman, as he was a man. A man who had to put things right before he began the next chapter of his life.

Rizzo reached for the sugar and as she did so, the fluorescent light glinted off the gold ring on her left hand.

“You’re married?” Kenickie asked, although he knew the answer. He should have been prepared for it, he would have been a fool to think Betty Rizzo wouldn’t be snapped right up by someone.

“Yeah” she said, somewhat shyly. “His name is Peter. He’s a writer.”

“I never pictured you with a Peter” he said. “Or a writer. I thought you’d end up with a racer named Jason or Brody or something.”

Rizzo only shook her head in amusement. “Truthfully, I was never that interested in cars, I only pretended to be. I was much more interested in the boy driving them.”

Rizzo blushed. It was a new look on her. Kenickie felt she never seemed to be embarrassed by anything back at high school. But maybe she was putting on an act back then just like he was.

Rizzo took a sip of hot coffee, burning her tongue but thinking that small punishment was what she deserved for flirting with this man she hadn’t seen in five years. She was a married woman, and she wasn’t like that.

“Is he good to you?” Kenickie asked, and Rizzo thought that was perhaps the sweetest question he could have asked.

“He is.” She smiled to herself. “Do you have someone?”

Kenickie shook his head. “Nah. There have been a few girls over the years, but no one special really. I was always working too much.” Back on safer ground, Kenickie relaxed and leant back in his chair. “My cousin Aleks gave me a job as a mechanic in his autoshop. Pretty soon I was managing the place. It was great, I really enjoyed it.”

“Past tense?”

And just like that, the conversation was into more difficult territory again. “I left, I moved on. That’s why I’m here. I joined the Marines. They were looking for engineers and I thought why not? Fixing cars all my life paid off, I guess. I start my training next week.” He paused, letting all that sink in.

He noticed that Rizzo’s big brown eyes were focused on him completely. It stirred something in him, the something that he tried to ignore. He took a drink of his own coffee and continued. “I could be out there in a month, you know. And I couldn’t go without putting my life straight first.”

Rizzo’s nerves were back, but they were nerves of a different kind. “Out there? You mean Vietnam?” Kenickie nodded and she slumped down in her chair. She’d read the newspapers, of course she had. It was pretty hard to escape, even harder to sort out the facts from the fiction. But even mentioning the country scared her.

“Look, I have to say it, and I know you’re married and everything and I respect that. If you say he’s a good guy I believe you and I don’t want to get in the way of anything or cause you any trouble.” Kenickie was rambling now, but he couldn’t seem to get control of his mouth. “That summer after senor year was the best time of my life, Riz. Nothing since has even come close. I fell in love with you. It’s the biggest regret of my life that I never told you.”

Rizzo looked up at the ceiling, willing furiously for her tears to stay just where they were. She didn’t like crying in front of anyone, she never had. She wanted to appear tough. But everything about that summer came rushing back to her like a tidal wave, the good and the bad, and it was a futile effort not to let it show. She felt a tear roll down her cheek.

Kenickie immediately regretted making her cry, and seeing her so vulnerable stirred the same emotions in him. He had seen her angry and playful, happy and spiteful, every other emotion under the sun, but he didn’t recall ever seeing her cry.

“I’m sorry” he said. It’s what he wanted to say all along. He placed his hand on the table top inches from hers, and when she didn’t pull away, he took hold of her fingers, giving them a gentle squeeze.

Rizzo snatched a napkin from the dispenser with her other hand and dabbed at her eyes, annoyed at herself for crying. But she stayed seated, she didn’t try and run, and she didn’t try to hit him or throw something at him either. All good signs.

“I loved you too” Rizzo said. The words hung in the air between them and they just looked at each other frankly and calmly until the waitress brought over their pie.

Kenickie wasn’t hungry, but he picked up his fork and cut off a piece anyway. Rizzo didn’t touch hers, seemingly too lost in her thoughts to even notice if was there. Kenickie felt like it would be a colossal mistake to interrupt her so he just ate, and watched.

“I owe you answers” Rizzo said eventually. “I know I do. I’m afraid you’re going to hate me when you get them.”

“I was angry for a long time” Kenickie said honestly, “but I never hated you. I never could hate you.”

“Yeah well, you haven’t heard what I have to say yet.”

“Is everything alright here?” the waitress said. She hovered by their table with a smile on her face.

“Yes, fine” Kenickie said dismissively. His tone was abrupt and the woman backed away, frowning and muttering something under her breath.

In the brief pause in their conversation, Rizzo seemed to have gotten a hold on her emotions. When she spoke again her voice was harder, a barrier in place that she’d always used to survive. “I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye, Kenickie. I tried to see you, really I did, but I didn’t have a choice. My father wouldn’t let me leave the house. He got a new job, piled my Mom, my brother and me into the car and we were gone. It all happened so fast.”

The confusion on Kenickie’s face was unmistakeable. “Why?”

Rizzo put her head in her hands, her palms covering her whole face. She couldn’t look at him. She had to be honest, now that he was right in front of her there was no evading the truth anymore, but her courage stopped short of being able to look Kenickie in the eye when she admitted her secret.

“Because he found out about the baby.”


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Kenickie felt like he’d been punched in the gut. Suddenly it all made sense. Why the family had vanished so unexpectedly, why even Frenchie and Marty and Jan didn’t know where she had gone. Kenickie had raced all around town the day he’d shown up at her house to find the place deserted, but no one had a clue. He’d spent weeks chasing down every possible lead he could think of but to no avail.

Rizzo let out a short sharp sob and her hands fell from her face into her lap. “You’d think I would have learnt my lesson after that first scare, wouldn’t you?”

Kenickie still couldn’t speak, but knew he had to. He stammered incoherently, taking several attempts to actually get any meaningful words out. But still, all he could think to say was “shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Riz…”

“His name is Jack” she said quickly. “He’s yours.”

Kenickie should have been furious, he should hate her just like she said he would, but he remembered her father and what a piece of work he was. He knew how terrified of him she was, although she tried to brush it off and deny it whenever her family came up in conversation.

Rizzo should have given Kenickie more space to process, but she couldn’t give him only half a truth. He needed all the information, then he could decide to hate her guts if he wanted and never come near her again. “When I said I didn’t have a choice, that’s not quite true. My father was furious, I’d never seen him so angry. After he slapped me across the face and downed half a bottle of scotch, he did give me a choice. Get rid and never tell anyone I’d been pregnant, or keep the baby but we’d have to leave town. What kind of choice was that?”

Kenickie shook his head from side to side trying to keep control. “He didn’t even give me a chance. I would have done the right thing, you know? I would have stuck by you.”

Now Rizzo did cry and didn’t try to hide it. Kenickie scooted his chair around the table so he was nearer to her but didn’t put his arm around her, as much as he wanted to.

“I don’t run from my mistakes” Rizzo said. “I never have. It wasn’t a hard choice in the end, but it still broke my heart.” She wiped her nose with a napkin and crumpled it into a ball. “We were stupid kids, we should have been careful. But I don’t regret it, not really. I love my son.” She stopped and looked at Kenickie, her eyes softening. “Our son.”

Rage was boiling up inside Kenickie, but not rage at Rizzo. “I’ll kill him” he muttered. “Your Dad, I’ll kill him.”

“You’re too late” Rizzo said, dryly. “A heart attack beat you to it.”

“I’m sorry” Kenickie said on instinct, but was he sorry? Was she? He knew how much his own family were suffering right now with his own father’s ill-health, but his Dad was what a Dad should be. Not cruel and dictatorial.

Rizzo shrugged. “I’m not. He was a bastard.”

Kenickie ran his hands through his hair, taking all this in. Eventually he asked, “When?”

Rizzo’s face contorted into a painful grimace, like this information was the hardest to say of all. “Two years ago.”

“Two years?” Now Kenickie was a little angry with her. “Why didn’t you say anything then? I’d left, but my folks and my sister were still right there where we’d always been. If you wanted to track me down it wouldn’t have been hard.”

“I know. I know. I’m sorry.” The words sounded hollow to Rizzo and she hated herself. “I thought about it, God knows I did, but how could I tell you after all that time?”

“Like this?” Kenickie asked. He folded his arms across his chest, challenging her to explain.

“I was still so young. And I was scared. I worried what people would think of me, I started to think that perhaps my Dad had the right idea in making us leave town.”

“Since when have you cared what anyone thought of you?”

Rizzo fixed Kenickie with a withering look. “I always cared. You’re an idiot if you think I didn’t.”

Kenickie turned away, but he unfolded his arms and his defensive pose was gone. A minute passed, and all Rizzo could see of him was his hunched back, his shoulders moving up and down as he breathed heavily. All the other patrons and staff in the café were probably staring at them, wondering what the hell was going on, but she didn’t care. She’d probably have to find a new post-shift hideout though.

When Kenickie turned around, his cheeks were swollen and his eyes were red and the sight of him broke Rizzo’s heart.

“I would have taken care of you” he said.

“I know. I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say.”

Kenickie could have kept pushing her, for more explanations, for more detailed reasons why she kept this from him all these years, and in the past perhaps he would have, but his impending departure made him bite his tongue. It wouldn’t do anyone any good to go down that route, least of all himself. He could tell from the way she looked at him now, more open and vulnerable than he had ever seen another person, that she truly was sorry.

Kenickie sighed. “Can I see a picture?”

Rizzo smiled sadly, and reached under the table for her purse. She dug inside for her wallet, and Kenickie watched her trying to steel himself for the moment he saw his son for the first time. She pulled out a square photograph and placed it on the table, pushing it towards Kenickie.

Kenickie stared at it, his heart swelling, but he didn’t move to pick it up, afraid that if he did it would vanish, that the fragile bubble he felt he was in would burst and prove all this was a crazy dream.

From the photograph, a little boy with light brown hair and round cheeks smiled back at whoever was behind the camera. Rizzo perhaps, or his step-father, but he didn’t want to think too much about that. Jack wore jeans and a Christmas jumper and had a paper hat from a cracker on his head.

“He’s four now, almost five” Rizzo said. Kenickie nodded. He was too shocked to do the math himself so he was grateful. “He’s amazing. How I managed to raise such a sweet and kind little boy I’ll never know.”

Kenickie picked up the photograph and brought it closer to his face, wanting to take in every little detail. “He looks happy.”

“He’d just got a train set for Christmas after talking about it non-stop for months, he better have been happy.”

Rizzo’s face glowed as she talked about him. She looked content and calm. “It was hard in the beginning, so hard. Being a single teenage mother in a strange city with no friends around to lean on. But it all worked out in the end.”

Kenickie had so many questions, about what Rizzo had gone through as well as what Jack was like. He also had questions about this Peter guy she had married, although Kenickie wasn’t sure he wanted to hear those answers. He’d missed so much. He wanted five years’ worth of stories about his little boy’s life.

“I have to go. I’m sorry. I have to get home.”

Kenickie nodded, even as his heart sank. The stories would have to wait. He understood, but he didn’t like it. Rizzo opened her wallet for some money but Kenickie took out his own wallet first. “I’ve got the bill, don’t worry about it.”

Rizzo stood up and gathered her things. “Thanks Kenickie. You can keep that.” She gestured to the photograph in his hands. “I’ve got plenty.”

“Can I see you again?”

Rizzo hesitated, but only for a second. “Sure. Same time tomorrow?”

Kenickie watched as Rizzo walked out of the café. When she passed the window, she turned back to him and he raised his hand to wave. When he’d finally recovered his senses enough to leave too, he threw some dollars onto the table and walked out into the night, holding the precious photo of his son to his chest.

* * *

“Is that you Honey?”

Rizzo unlocked the door to her apartment and heard Peter call to her from the livingroom. “Yeah. I’m sorry I’m late. Is Jack in bed already?” She walked through and stood behind her husband’s armchair. He closed his newspaper and turned to look at her. She bent down and kissed him.

“Just finished his bedtime story now. He’s probably still awake if you want to say goodnight.”

Rizzo kicked off her shoes and sank down into Peter’s lap. “No, you know what he’s like. If I go up now, he’ll never go to sleep. Listen, I’m sorry I missed dinner.”

Peter moved his paper aside and put his arms around his wife. “That’s alright. Did you have a good day?”

Rizzo didn’t answer, she buried her face in his shoulder and felt his arms around her, holding her tighter. How the hell she’d managed to find herself such a generous and loving man, she had no idea. She knew how lucky she was. There were not many men who would take on a single mother and her kid, not when society still looked down upon women like her and made them feel worthless. Her own father hadn’t even loved his own kids half as much as Peter loved Jack. There were just as few who would allow her to work, instead of being a stay at home Mom like the generation before, and the generation before that. Nothing about their marriage was conventional, and Rizzo liked that. She had never really been one for fitting in.

Today had made her realise she’d told enough lies to last a lifetime, she certainly didn’t want to tell any more to her husband now, but she needed a minute. She needed him to hold her just a bit longer.

Peter took hold of her shoulders and gently pushed her away so he could see her face. “Bett, what’s wrong?” He wiped a tear from her cheek.

She let out a long sigh. There was no point beating around the bush. “I had a visit from Jack’s father today.”

That was all she said. She watched Peter’s face as that news sunk in.

“Wow. How did he find you?”

“An old friend told him where he could track me down. I told him everything, Peter. I had to. He never did anything wrong, what right did I have to keep his son from him?”

If Peter judged her in that moment, either for keeping her secret for five years or spilling everything now, he kept it to himself.

“I said I’d see him again. Tomorrow. I feel I owe it to him. Is that okay? If you want to come, I wouldn’t mind.”

Peter kissed her on the forehead. “I trust you, Betty. I don’t need to come. Just… Be careful. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

* * *

The next evening after she came out of work, Rizzo didn’t take Kenickie to a café, she took him to the waterfront underneath the Golden Gate Bridge. She watched Kenickie’s face in profile as he stared up at the structure, hands in pockets.

“It’s somethin’” he said, then turned to her with a grin.

Rizzo kicked the stones and stared out over the bay. She found it peaceful. Watching the boats on the water and listening to the gulls fly overhead.

“Jack loves it here” she said. “Gotta keep an eye on him though or he’d be right in the bay. Swims like a fish.”

Rizzo watched Kenickie’s face light up as he listened to this tiny snippet of information about his son, but then he grew solum and looked down at his feet. Rizzo put her hand on his sleeve. “I thought I was doing the right thing for everyone but I know now that I was wrong. I want to make it up to you. To both of you.”

“What else does he like?”

Rizzo smiled. “Cars. He’s mad for them. And baseball, but that could just be because Peter’s such a big fan. He loves being outside and hates being cooped up inside when it rains.”

“I have to report for training on Monday. I don’t know how long I’ll be away.”

Rizzo tightened her fingers around his arm. She didn’t know what else to do and she certainly didn’t know what else to say.

“Can I meet him before I go?”

Kenickie’s face was so hopeful that Rizzo couldn’t say no. She was waiting for him to ask and knew already what she was going to say. “Or course. I’ve already spoken to Peter about it.” She tried not to notice the shadow that crossed Kenickie’s face when she said his name. Jealousy? Or simply regret? “We have a free day Saturday. You can come to the park. But I need to ask one thing of you, and it might be difficult for you to hear.”

Kenickie turned and they were standing face to face, only inches apart. “What? Anything.”

“Can you not tell Jack who you are? He’s too little, he won’t understand. He’ll have a lot of questions and…”

“… and I won’t be around to answer them.”

Rizzo smiled sadly and nodded. “When he’s older, then we’ll tell him. I promise. I want you to be a part of his life, Kenickie. That is, if you want to be.”

Kenickie sucked in a deep breath and in the dim light Rizzo saw his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Of course I do” he replied in a quiet voice. “I won’t say anything.”

Rizzo closed her eyes. Standing this close to him she could feel the warmth of his body in the chill night air. Memories of the most wonderful season of her life played in her mind’s eye like a showreel. The summer when they were rarely more than a couple of feet apart. When they laughed and drank, danced and drove down the highway in Kenickie’s car. When they had sex and lay in the back seat most nights naked in each other’s arms. When she opened her eyes and lifted her head to look up at Kenickie, she knew from the wistful look in his eyes that the same scenes were running through his own head.

“I want to give you a hug” he said. “Would that be okay?” Rizzo nodded. “Your husband won’t mind?”

She didn’t think so. Peter trusted her, and she wouldn’t do anything to hurt him, but in that second, she didn’t really care. She wrapped her arms around Kenickie’s waist and felt his arms envelope her. “I’ve wanted this for five years” she said. “Leaving you the way I did was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”

“Losing you nearly broke me Rizzo, I don’t want to do that again. Listen, I know we can’t be anything more than friends, I know that. I respect that. But I don’t just want to be in Jack’s life, I want to be in yours too.”

Clinging to him, Rizzo felt eighteen again. We’ll see, she thought. We’ll see. But she said nothing, just savoured his embrace.

A while later, Kenickie let go and she did too. They stood there on the beach smiling at each other. Rizzo felt good. The guilt she felt would never go away, but she felt it ease slightly. She meant it about making it up to him.

“Rizzo” Kenickie said, pondering her name. “I guess it’s not your name now.”

She laughed. “It’s Draper.”

Kenickie’s raised eyebrows made her laugh more. “Betty Draper” he said. “It sounds so proper.”

“You’re gonna say it doesn’t suit me, right?”

A naughty smirk Rizzo well remembered even after all those years crept onto Kenickie’s face and she hit him playfully on the arm.

“Does that mean I can’t call you Rizzo anymore?”

Rizzo shook her head. “No, you can.” No one called her that here, it was a remnant of her old life. But he could. He could call her whatever he wanted.

“Tell me about Peter” Kenickie said. It sounded like it pained him a little to say those words.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. He’s part of your life, of my son’s life, I want to know what kind of man he is. I’ll meet him eventually right? I want to know what I’m in for.”

They went back to standing side by side facing the water. “He’s a good guy from a good family. He’s a writer, a journalist. He interviewed me for a story, actually. That’s how we met.”

“A story? What about?”

“The way the state treats unwed mothers. I didn’t want to do it at first. He persuaded me. I thought he was cute.” Rizzo blushed. “You don’t want to hear that, sorry.”

“Does…” Kenickie swallowed, trying to force his next question past the lump in his throat. “Does Jack call him Dad?”

“He calls him Daddy Pete.” Rizzo laughed. “Peter’s brother started it as a joke, I think, but it kind of stuck. His family are crazy. In a good way. Not like mine. I don’t really speak to my Mom any more. Me and my brother are close but he lives all the way out in Chicago, we never see each other.”

“My Dad’s sick” Kenickie said. “Cancer. I don’t know how long he has left. That’s why I went back home, when I went to see Frenchie. It seems like life has come full circle.”

“I’m sorry Kenickie. I know you guys were close.”

Kenickie only nodded and scuffed his boots on the ground. “My grandpa, his dad, he wasn’t so hot. Pops never forgot that, always tried to be for me and my sister everything his father was not. I want to be like him. If you’ll let me.”

“I will” Rizzo said. She reached into her purse for her notebook and pen. “11 o’clock Saturday. Here’s the name of the park. There’s a playground near the north entrance. That’s where we’ll meet you.”

She ripped off the sheet and handed it to him. “I’ll be there” he said. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

* * *

Kenickie was at the park half an hour early. He wasn’t going to let his terrible sense of direction jeopardise meeting his boy for the first time. He found a bench on the opposite side of the path to the playground and watched the kids and their parents take advantage of the morning sunshine. His leg bounced up and down with nervous energy, and he smoked a cigarette to try and settle his nerves. He took out the Christmas photo Rizzo had given him, and tried to imagine what he would say to this little boy. His son.

He saw Rizzo approach alone and his heart sank, but she was smiling. Relieved, perhaps, that he had kept his word. “Morning” she said as she came up beside him. Kenickie looked over her shoulder in the direction she’d just come from. Searching. “Peter’s bringing Jack in jut a moment. I told him to wait. I wanted to see how you were first.”

“Nervous” Kenickie said. “What do I say?”

“Hello?” Rizzo suggested. She smiled. “Jack might be shy at first, but once he warms up to you, you don’t be able to get a word in edge wise.”

“You think he’ll like me?”

Rizzo couldn’t help laughing then. The scared look on Kenickie’s face made him look like a scared little boy himself. “Just relax” she said. “Here they come.”

She stood up from the bench and Kenickie did too, still antsy with nerves. Rizzo raised her arm high in the air and Kenickie watched at a man who must be her husband returned the wave. The man had dark, almost blank hair, and wore glasses with thick black frames. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting from the guy that Rizzo had chosen to spend her life with, but it wasn’t him. Kenickie was only distracted by that thought for a second, because he saw Peter was holding the hand of a little boy and his heart began to quicken.

“Kenickie? Remember what I asked? It’s important…”

Kenickie took his eyes of Jack for just a second, long enough to give Rizzo a reassuring smile. “I promise.”

He watched as Peter and Jack stopped about ten metres away. Peter crouched down to say something to Jack, and then pointed towards where Kenickie and Rizzo stood. Jack set off at a run towards them, his unzipped jacket flying out behind him and his arms outstretched like he was trying to fly. Peter hung back, watching. Their eyes met and Peter nodded at him, running his fingers through his hair. Kenickie nodded back. A lesser man might have barged over, asserted his authority, voiced a warning not to get to close. But he didn’t, and Kenickie appreciated it.

“Mommy!” Jack flew at Rizzo and she swept him up in her arms, lifting his feet off the floor.

“Kiddo! How’s it going?”

“Good. Daddy Pete said you’re gonna push me on the swings.”

Rizzo put her son back on the ground and did up the zipper on his jacket. “Sure thing” she said, and Kenickie noticed the way her voice changed as she spoke to Jack. She was energised, attentive, and the little boy clearly adored her. It simultaneously made Kenickie’s heart soar and break. “There’s someone I want you to meet first, okay?”

Jack noticed Kenickie for the first time, and his little face changed from a smile into a frown. Rizzo took him by the hand and led him to the bench, lifting him up to sit in the middle. She sat down on one side of him, keeping a reassuring hand on his back. She nodded at Kenickie, and he timidly sat down on his other side.

“This is Mommy’s friend Kenickie” she said. Kenickie doubted the little boy would notice the way her voice wobbled slightly, but Kenickie did. “Will you say hi?”

“Hi” came the response. Jack leaned into Rizzo’s side and looked at him frankly.

Kenickie’s impulse was to hug the child, cling to him, try to make up for five years of not being in his life in one embrace. But he knew he would only scare him. It took all the willpower he had to curb the urge. He took a deep breath and arranged his face into what he hoped was a friendly smile. It wasn’t hard, Kenickie couldn’t remember one single moment when he had felt happier than he did then. “Hi Jack. It’s great to meet you.”

A little less timid now, Jack shuffled down the bench. Kenickie took in every detail. From Jack’s slightly grubby white sneakers and the way his legs stuck out in front of him, to the checked button down that he wore beneath his dark green jacket. His light brown hair stuck out at odd angles, and Rizzo reached out affectionately to brush it out of his eyes.

“Kenickie and I went to school together.”

Jack ignored that fact in a way that only a small adorable child could get away with. “Are you going to play on the swings with us?”

Kenickie looked at Rizzo and she nodded, beaming. “Sure, I’d love to.” It was then that Kenickie noticed that Jack clutched a model car in his small hand. “Hey, what have you got there?” In answer, Jack held out the toy to Kenickie and he took it gently. “This is cool man, your Mom told me you like cars.”

“Yeah! I want to be a racer when I grow up.”

Rizzo rolled her eyes but didn’t say a word, not wanting to interrupt this moment. She took her hand away from Jack’s back, confident he didn’t need her reassurance.

Kenickie examined the bright blue car. “Hey, it’s a Mustang. That’s the best car.” Jack nodded eagerly, happy to have found some common ground with this stranger. “You know what my job is? I fix cars. And you know what car we had in a couple of weeks ago? A Mustang!”

“Cool!” Jack said. “Mom, did you hear that?”

“Yeah, baby, I did.”

“Can we go on the swings now?”

Rizzo mussed his hair again and bent down to kiss him on the head. “Absolutely.”

* * *

“You were so great with him” Rizzo said as they watched Peter and Jack walk cross the park. She couldn’t help it, she had tears in her eyes. It was a wish she’d harboured deep in her heart ever since that one afternoon after she’d found out she was pregnant and before her father ripped her life apart, when she imagined telling Kenickie and hoped he’d stand by her.

“Well, he’s a great kid. You’ve done a great job, Riz. I mean it.” He brushed her arm and smiled at her but then his face fell. He looked down the path to catch a last glimpse of his son as he walked out through the gate in search of ice cream. “I wish I could stay longer. I want to be here for Jack, for you both. Too much time has been wasted already.”

“You’ll have time. You’ll have the next fourteen years, until he turns eighteen and decides he wants to get as far away from us as possible.”

Kenickie wanted to laugh, wanted to enjoy the first little hint Rizzo was offering of what life could be like, co-parenting their son. But he had responsibilities. He’d pledged to serve his country and he couldn’t renege on that, not even for something as important as this. “I have to go Riz, I’m sorry.”

“I understand.”

“I could be deployed in a month, and if that happens who knows when I’ll be back.”

Rizzo dropped her gaze to the floor. There were so many things she wanted to say. To apologise again for her decisions, for stealing all that time away that Kenickie and Jack could have bonded as father and son, or even for not having any words even remotely up to the task of conveying just how deeply she regretted her lies. But instead, she took Kenickie’s hand in both of hers and held it tight.

“Take care of yourself, Kenickie. I mean it. And I’ll take care of our son.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal.”

“I should catch them up” Rizzo said but although she let go of Kenickie’s hand, she didn’t immediately move to leave. “I’m glad Frenchie told you where I was” she said. “And I’m glad you came to find me.”

They held each other’s gaze for a moment, conveying so much between them in just that one look. Then Rizzo stood on tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek.

Kenickie watched her follow her family out of the park then he raised his face to the sun, closing his eyes. Whatever happened to him now, he would always have this day. He reached into his pocket for the photograph, but along with the picture he found something else, casually deposited and quickly forgotten in the blissful afternoon he’d spent pushing his son on the swings, hearing his laughter echo around him.

He found the small toy car and closed his fist around it tightly.


	3. Epilogue

Epilogue

“I wanna be a pirate for Halloween, Mom!”

Rizzo dried her hands on the dishtowel and turned to her son. “Oh yeah? I think that could be arranged.”

“Hey, buddy, are you ready to go? I’ll walk you to the school bus” Peter called from the front door as he put his coat on.

Jack groaned theatrically. “Fiiiiiiine.”

Rizzo laughed. She should probably tell him off for giving them sass, but she only shrugged and took him by the shoulders, turning him around towards the door. “You’ll have a great day, kid. Then perhaps we could go to Goodwill and see about making you that costume.”

Peter appeared in the kitchen doorway. “What time’s your shift today?”

“Noon” Rizzo replied. “I’ll be home late. The sitter will stay until you get home.”

“I’ll be home in time to put him to bed. Have a great day” he said, giving his wife a peck on the cheek.

“Get out of here” she said, and pushed both boys out the door with a chuckle.

As she put away the dishes, Rizzo’s mind was pre-occupied with wondering whether she’d be able to fashion a pirate hat herself or if she’d have to splash out on a visit to the costume shop, and trying to remember if Jack still had that toy sword leftover from his medieval knight phase.

She heard the buzzer sound. “Come on up” she said into the intercom by the front door, pressing the door release without waiting to see who it was. It was a safe neighbourhood; it was probably just a delivery.

Even when the knock at the door was louder, more serious sounding than she’d expect from a delivery man, Rizzo wasn’t concerned. She was still smiling to herself about how cute Jack would look in his costume. It wasn’t until she opened the door and saw the two men standing in the hallway that her blood ran cold.

They both wore crisp military uniforms and solum expressions. Rizzo had to grip the doorframe to keep her knees from buckling.

“Mrs Elizabeth Draper?”

“Yes. What is this?”

Those were the words she said, while inside all she could think of was ‘no no no no…’ Because she knew. She knew why these men were here.

The older gentleman with a greying moustache consulted his clipboard before speaking in a calm voice. “We have you down as the next of kin of a Private Kenickie Murdoch?”

She shook her head frantically and her breathing became laboured. No. She wasn’t. But if these men were here, it meant that military records disagreed. Rizzo didn’t hear another word these gentlemen said to her, but she didn’t need to. There would only be one reason why they would be standing on her doorstep. It was as if time moved in slow motion. Her ears began to ring, her body’s way of preserving itself from the trauma of having to hear the words.

The younger man handed her a thick brown envelope and a more official looking letter and she took them without thinking. They asked her a question and she nodded, but had no idea what she was confirming. The men saluted respectfully, turned, and made their way down the stairwell. Rizzo watched them go numbly and stared at the envelope in her hands. She stepped back, closed the door and sank to the floor.

She discarded the crisp white envelope with the military emblem and emptied out the contents of the brown envelope onto the hall floor.

The personal effects of a cocky but sweet boy she’d spent four months falling in love with six years ago. All that was left of him. It didn’t feel real.

A stack of letters, carefully sealed an addressed. To his parents, his sister, herself and Jack. A wallet and dogtags on a tarnished chain. Kenickie’s ‘lucky penny’ that had proven to be quite unlucky that day, a lifetime ago at Thunder Road, that he had kept anyway as a joke and laughed about when he’d told her the story later.

A bright blue toy car. A photograph of their son.

Rizzo let out a strangled cry and collapsed forward right there on the tile.

* * *

_Dear Rizzo_

_I hope you never have to read this, but if you’re reading it now, it means the worst has happened and I won’t be coming home. I’m sorry I’ve broken the promise I made to be there for our son, to help raise him and watch him grow up. One afternoon together wasn’t nearly enough. I wish I could have given him more. But I thank God every day that I got to meet him and have that time together even if it was so short. I know that Jack will be okay, because he has you. Please know that I forgive you, for whatever you feel you need to be forgiven for. I know you did what you thought was best and I don’t hold it against you for a second. All any of us can do is our best. I tried to be a good son, a loyal friend, someone the people I love can be proud of. But I guess I have no say on how anyone will remember me when I’m gone, none of us do. I can only hope that you remember me well. If I’d had the chance, I would have tried every day to be the father our son deserves, like my father was to me. I hope you tell him about me one day, share stories, although maybe not all of them, at least until he’s an adult… I wrote a letter to Jack, hopefully it’s found its way to you too. Give it to him when he’s eighteen, when he reaches the age we were when he was born. I’ve written down all the things I could think of to tell him, all the words of wisdom I wish I could impart to him myself. There are a lot, there’s not much else to do here but mull over hopes and regrets. Please send the other letters to my family. I hope you don’t think badly of me for giving your name as my next of kin and not my parents. They’re old, I want to spare them as much as I can. Perhaps if you can deliver them in person with Jack by your side it will soften the blow, but I understand if that’s not what you want. I wish you a long and happy life. I wish I could have shared it with you but it wasn’t to be. I love you, Riz. I never stopped loving you._

_Kenickie_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you made it to the end you deserve a medal. Thank you for reading. When I struggle to come up with titles for my stories, I turn to song titles for inspiration. Yesterday by The Beatles was number 1 in the US billboard charts on Halloween 1965 and I thought it was kind of perfect.
> 
> Rest in peace Jeff Conaway.


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